Bloodlust
by Artemis Asteri
Summary: Zayn Xu is the newest resident of Bridgeport. Immediately, she meets her first love in the form of a cold, heartless vampire. A life-changing encounter with him leaves her scarred physically and mentally, and her desire for blood and lust combine in the deadliest of ways. What will happen as her spree runs its course? Rated M for cursing and references to, ah, you know. Heats up.
1. Chapter 1

*I'd like to mention that this story follows the life of an actual sim I am playing now. That and the combination of a few other factors in my life may cause the story to a bit choppy. Once I install the supernatural EP I will do my best to accommodate that. This story is just for fun, how I imagine my sims would feel as I make them do stupid stuff. Certain elements of the game did need to be altered. Okay, enough rambling and apologizing.

My two inch heels clacked as I walked toward my new starter home. The house, a quaint, ranch home with the barest forms of furniture, was located at the base of the celebrity hills near the bridge. It was surrounded by trees and grass, with the rolling river behind it. The house had the illusion of being a log-cabin hidden in the dark forest, but I could see the city glowing as brightly as the moon from the other side of the water. Before I could even reach the door, I sensed that something was amiss. Vermin. My house was infested with insects. I needed to either call an exterminator or kill the little demons myself. From that moment, I should have known Bridgeport would bring me nothing but trouble. I stopped my tread toward the house and turned to face a group of roaches by the patch of cement parking spot.

As I stomped the disgusting creatures, I started to think. Then I realized that I didn't know what to think about.

"Who am I?" I asked myself out loud. I went through my mental files, trying to figure out my own personality. "Oh yeah," I said as I made way toward the pesky moths flying near my door. "I'm Zayn Xu. I just reached full adulthood." Having grasped my identity, I started to organize my goals. "The first thing I should do is get a job in science." But just as quickly as that want appeared, I changed my mind. The thought vanished from my brain. "I guess I shouldn't do that. Okay, well, maybe I'd like to read a book about charisma. Yes, I definitely want to do that. That means I'll need to go to the bookstore to buy a book about charisma too." I nodded as I chased a group of butterflies across the front yard. "Then, I want to meet someone new. Yeah. I need to get acquainted with someone from around here." I was assaulted by an army of new wishes, but again, they left at almost the same time they arrived. Weird.

As soon as I'd rid myself of the filthy pests, I picked up the newspaper. I needed to get a job.

"Business? No. Law Enforcement? Not at all. Medical? Puh-leeze." I folded the paper up and put it in the trash. Guess I'd need to try some other day.

I still had a bit of cash leftover from the move. Smiling, I walked toward the mailbox and pulled out and envelope addressed "To the Undermine Charity of Elder Life Fruits. Enclosed is a check for $100. Zayn Xu." A dark, twisted pleasure ran up my spine as I pushed the envelope into my mailbox and closed it. The act gave me a little extra something as I walked toward my house, but just before I could step inside, a man with wavy, black hair and a long, white lab coat ran toward me. He pushed past me to ring the doorbell. As he mashed his hand right into my boobs and shoved me aside, I felt a chill. This creep was a vampire. I was being hunted.

Recognizing that I was the sole resident of the place, he turned to face me. "Hi!" the stranger said, as if he hadn't done anything rude in the least. The smell of something burning wafted from him, and he did appear to be sweating more than the weather warranted. "I'm Griffin Torrent. I heard you had some interesting critters on your lot, and I'd love to have a few. You know, for the lab." He smiled and awaited my answer, his sharp incisors gleaming in the sunlight. He reminded me a little of the undead, but, thinking of my wish to meet new people, I consented. The feeling that he wanted to taste the plasma flowing through my veins did not leave me, but before I could change my mind and ask him to leave, he then ran toward a pile of roaches I must have missed, and began stomping them furiously. I'm not sure how that would get him specimens for the lab, but I didn't complain; I hated the little monsters. I entered the house to take a look in the mirror. For some reason, I couldn't recall what I looked like.

Oh yeah. Long, straight black hair, down to my ass. Beautiful, smiling Asian eyes, with the longest possible lashes, surrounded with thick eyeliner, passed down toward me from my father; and full lips, painted red, passed down to me from my Spanish mother. Neither of whom, for some odd reason, I remembered. A smooth, sloping nose was the centerpiece of my lightly tanned face. I felt the need to gussy up before leaving.

Just as I finished, Griffin walked back into my house. How he was able to enter without a key, I had no idea. He didn't give me room to answer, though, because he immediately began talking. He thanked me for the bugs, then started toward my bathroom as if he was going to use it. How dare he make himself at home in my house? Such a rude guest. I stared after him, at a loss for words. Eventually, I pulled myself together and marched toward my bathroom. Just as opened the door, though, I heard the pipes creaking as a 50-year-old mixture of water and crap pushed through the shower head. Before I understood what was happening, I walked in and caught an eyeful of what Griffin was working with. It was certainly a lot. He stepped out the shower, not even bothering to cover his junk, and began twisting and turning, trying to pull on his clothes. It was embarrassing, but perhaps more embarrassing was how turned on I was. Also strange.

Griffin was still a jerk, though. And I had to let him know.

"Umm, excuse me? You know, I just moved in, and I thought I was being friendly, letting you check out my bugs and all, but don't you think it's just a little bit rude to go showering in my house? I don't even KNOW you!" But, as the words fell from my mouth, I knew that I _did_ want to know him. Him and I, we had to become friends. That was something I wanted.

I expected to see in him not only embarrassment, but the beginnings of an apology. But when he finally brought his eyes up to mine, he wasn't frowning, looking ashamed. He was smiling. "I guess I was being a little inappropriate, wasn't I?" As he said this, I realized he was now dressed in a formal outfit. This was clearly anything but formal. "In fact, I didn't even get your name."

"I'm Zayn. Zayn Xu," I replied. Though I was still a bit irritated, I thought it best to try to familiarize myself with the guy. He was the only sim I knew in the world.

We started to talk about anything, everything. Every once in a while, I felt the strange compulsion to confide in him my mastermind plot, a plot I didn't even know I had, and that dark pleasure rose in me again. But just as the darkness filled my stomach and begin rising toward my chest, he shook his head at me, begging me to shut up.

"You know, what's wrong with you? You're always babbling about some crazy plot. You think you're some sort of evil overlord in the making?" He'd laugh. Pretty rude shit to say to someone you just met two hours ago. Many times I'd go off on a rampage ("And once that happens, I'll rule the WORLLLLLD!"), and many times he'd shut me down and cut me up, ("Oh be quiet, you crazy, wicked bitch!"). But this dance was fluid, a rhythm, as if we were in sync with each other. Slowly, the feeling that he wanted to drink me left. I had another urge to ask him a question.

"Griffs," I started. We'd become friends. "You know, I have to ask, what's your zodiac sign? I'm a Scorpio."

"Pisces," he replied. At this, both our eyes lit up. "That means we're compatible."

We moved off this subject, and unto new ones. I felt comfortable to ask him more questions, like how his day was. We even discussed some stupid book he'd read earlier today, though I hadn't even heard of it before then. It was as if we were best friends.

The conversation lulled once I finally ran out of things to say. I decided to give him a chance to talk. We stood there, in my living room, looking at our feet and swaying a bit, until finally Griffin cleared his throat. I looked up, ready to engage in conversation again. But before I could even comprehend what he was doing, Griffin leaned in, took the back of my head with his hands, and shoved his lips into mine. Where the fuck did that come from? I should've been pissed. I really should have been. But as I felt my arms rising to hold him, I realized that this, too, was something I wanted. I'd wanted to finally feel his lips pressing against mine for the first time. I hadn't really been interested in a platonic friendship. I never was. I was always searching for love, whether it be in books, on TV, or with some white-haired creep that bum-rushed me upon my arrival to this place. And now, I was romantically interested with him. He might even be my first love. In fact, the vulgarness of his actions, the way I should have been completely grossed out, made it all the more enjoyable. This close to him, I could tell that he was absolutely exhausted. He hadn't slept in 21 hours, and he was feeling horrible. Is it bad that I felt an intense, almost erotic, evil pleasure from his suffering? I was also feeling what I'd gotten an eyeful of rubbing against my thigh. Again, a variety of desires went through my mind, the front-runners being to ask Griffin on a date and to kiss him again.

After a moment, we disengaged, and with that, our conversation broke. "I have to take care of some things. Hope to see you soon!" Griffin said, already turning to run out the door. I watched him, or rather, a blur fly down the street, then decided to make myself some mac and cheese. My eyes, glazed at the prospect of love, or, more feasibly, lust, caught sight of the clock. It was already 12 'o clock AM. I'd have to call Griffin for our date tomorrow. Tonight, I think we'd both sleep like the dead.


	2. Chapter Two: Crushed to Rubble

*I'm having a hard time deciding what rating to make it so in your review please give me some advice!

I woke up the next stay still feelings the effects of last night's kiss. Though it was 10 'o clock AM, I had a feeling Griffin would still be sleeping, so I decided to get some other things done first. After all, I'd only been in Bridgeport for a day, and I still needed to get into the flow of the town. I rose from my bed and went to get the newspaper. This time, I went back inside and sat down to actually read it. The Llamas once again spanked the opposing team with the help of the team star, Richie Striker. Lola Belle was holding a concert tonight at the Cineplex. And tonight's hotspots were the Prosper Room and Plasma 501. Maybe Griffin and I could go there for our first date. I made a mental note of this, then decided to try jobs again.

"Journalism? No. Politics? No. Criminal? Why… yes! Yeah!" A devilish grin spread across my face as I realized that I'd found my true calling. The criminal career track would give me the perfect outlet for my undeniable inclination to sin, while getting paid. This was certainly the job for me.

So it was decided. I'd start my job as a Decoy tomorrow, and the carpool would come for me at noon. Sure, $18 per hour sucked, but I still had a little money left over, and I could always sell the bugs I caught around my home.

I folded up the newspaper, set it down on the coffee table, and then checked my phone for the time. It was only 11:30. Griffin was still sleeping, or at least avoiding the sunlight. I had to do something to pass the time.

Then I remembered that I wanted to be more charismatic. The Town Hall was holding charisma classes for $100 less today. I could swing over there and take a class, then go to the book store, and maybe even check out a few other places in town. I'd have a few hours before I needed to check on Griffs.

I stepped outside and took a taxi to the subway, which was pretty stupid, since I could have just taken the taxi all the way to the town hall. And then I ended up taking a taxi from the station I arrived at the rest of the way to the town hall. Wow. Sims are really dumb sometimes.

The class passed without much excitement. To be honest, I couldn't even tell you what happened in there; I just remember walking in, then walking out. Same with the bookstore. I did the silly subway-taxi thing again, walked in the bookstore, then magically came out with two of the three charisma books. I couldn't afford the third one. And now that I think about it, I don't remember paying for the taxi either! Plus, how can I learn how to socialize with people from a hardcover book anyway? And why can't I remember anything from before I moved here?

All this thinking was driving me crazy. I decided to stop standing outside the bookstore before I got a ticket for loitering, so I began walking toward the park. I guess I was still contemplating and not paying attention, because the next think I know, I'm ass-planted on the ground and a mousey-looking blonde is ass-planted opposite me.

"You idiot!" she shrieked, wiping dirt from her denim hat. "You've been standing there like a chump for at least twenty minutes, and _now_ you decide it's time to move? I could have you arrested for loitering, you know!"

A couple of stinging insults about dumb blondes and short skirts went through my mind, but upon hearing the a-word, I decided to play it cool. If I was arrested, she'd find out about my criminal career, and that'd be a horrible start. But still, I had a difficult time bringing myself to apologize. I couldn't even stop myself to deriving pleasure from the girl's embarrassment at her skirt rolling up and exposing Victoria's fishy secret. She really ought to wear some underwear during the day.

I stood up, dusted the dirt from my skinny jeans, then extended a hand to the girl, muttering something that was supposed to represent an apology. As I pulled her to her feet, her icy-blue glare softened. She extended her hand to me.

"Well, I can't really arrest you. I'm just a Desk Jockey. But hopefully, one day, I'll be able to do something CSI-related," she laughed. "I'm Bianca Rubble."

"Zayn Xu," I said, shaking her hand. She had a firm grip.

"Well, Zayn, I've never seen you around before. Are you new here?"

"Just moved in yesterday."

"Oh, sweet! You'll love it here. I've been here for a while, but more recently I moved into a house with my three best, well, former best… With these girls and my boyfriend, Beau." I stared at her, not quite skilled enough in conversation to know how to respond. She started to talk again. "I mean, he's not exactly my boyfriend. We are in love though. And he loves me the most. Definitely more than those other bi—I mean," she coughed awkwardly. "Anyway, I don't mean to be nosy, but where are you headed? I just got off of work, and well, I'd prefer to avoid going home right now. The Prosper Room's open already, we can go hang out there?"

I again stared at Bianca, inwardly debating whether or not I should go with this girl. She seemed kind of, I don't know, slimy. She was like the stereotype poser-party girl you'd expect to see in a big city, slinking around lounges way too suave for her, trying to get some celebrity. She'd already insulted me and lied to me within two minutes of meeting each other. But I did have a three more hours before I needed to call Griffin. I still had $200 dollars to blow.

"Ah, sure, why not. I have a few hours to spare."

Bianca flashed a grin at me, then grabbed my hand with her right and signaled a taxi with her left. In a few seconds, we were carted off to a sky-rise building. An aura of celebrity and sexiness surrounded the building, which had a mesmerizing glow even during the day. I could tell that Bianca and I were way out of our league. Bianca got out of the passenger seat, and before I could tell the taxi driver to keep going, she'd pulled open my door and yanked me from the yellow car. It sped off before she had barely even closed the door. Bianca dragged me toward the building, ready to harass some celebs, as I cursed under my breath.

Once we were inside, Bianca and I spun into our lounge-wear. She wore a too-tight deep blue strapless, while I donned a blood-red slimming dress that was a little shorter than mid-thigh. As we traveled in the elevator, day turned to night, and we were fully enveloped in the nightlife world. When the elevator opened, we saw the holding room, the portal to the world of celebrity. The only thing stopping us was the bouncer.

He was muscular man who just exuded confidence and authority, only the best for the top spot of Bridgeport. He was a handsome man, with dreadlocks, and when he spoke into his walkie-talkie, I heard a Jamaican accent. He did smell of alcohol, though, so I'm guessing he had a little taste before his shift started. Either way, he was just intimidating enough to make me ask Bianca if I could leave.

She just laughed. "Don't worry, Zayn. He'll be easy. We'll just bribe him."

"I thought I told you I didn't have money for that!"

This, apparently, was funnier than my first protest. "You don't bribe people with money. You bribe them with sex!"

"Sex?" I hissed. "Are you crazy? I'm not _prostituting_ myself out just to get ignored my celebrities! I don't know if you know this, but I just had my first kiss yesterday, and—"

Bianca pressed a well-manicured finger to my lips to shut me up. "Look, sweetie, I've seen all the bouncers. I know how to work this guy. If you don't feel comfortable, just stand by me, smile and snicker, and keep your mouth shut, okay? I'll have us in here in fifteen minutes, tops." With that, she strutted out the elevator toward the bouncer, and I had no choice but to follow.

As we approached, he stopped talking into his talkie and watched us. First, he glanced at me, my eyes rolling and my step less than enthusiastic, and I guess he decided I wasn't of interest. I think he'd already decided not to let me in. Then he looked at Bianca, and I thought I saw his eyes brighten for a second, but his cold, hard glare returned again.

"Ladies," he said, nodding at me, then going back to Bianca, "what can do you for?" I wasn't sure if that was just his accent, or if he was already asking for rates.

Bianca smiled. "Hi, umm," she eyed his nametag. "Evan. I was just wondering," she swirled her foot around as if she were a little shy, but she was really just empathizing her legs. "How much does it cost?"

"To get in?" He looked down and shook his head, feigning sympathy. "Sorry ladies, tonight's extremely exclusive access. Nobody but celebrities get in here. Tomorrow maybe, not tonight."

Bianca giggled. "Not to get inside. To talk to you. Celebrities are so mainstream, you know? What about the people that work to make them special? The guys behind it all?"

Evan sniffed but didn't say anything. I'm pretty sure he wasn't buying it. I sure wasn't.

"If I wanted to talk to celebrities, all I have to do is go to the Cineplex or something. Rockstars and bands for days, standing around outside, pretending to be important. What would they even be, though, without guys doing stuff for them or protecting them and making people think they're worth trying to get to just because a guy is keeping people from them? Not shit, that's what." She rolled her eyes, as if she was just so tired of the whole thing. "So we came to see you. When we get home, we can watch celebrities on TV. They'll always have some other publicity event or some other club to visit sooner or later. But the security, who knows when I'll see you again? You guys are always changing stations and shifts, working behind the scenes, that it'll probably be a while before you even work as a bouncer here again."

He nodded his head a little, as if she'd really said something special.

"Yeah, you guys are the real people. I like a guy with muscle, not a guy head-to-toe in camera make-up." At this, Evan smiled. I could just imagine him thinking, _Wow, I have real muscles. I don't wear makeup. This is so true and deep._ I had to abstain from gagging.

"So what's your name?" Evan asked. I cleared my throat. "Names," he said belatedly.

"I'm Bianca, and this is my friend Zayn."

"Hi," I said, trying to be pleasant. He nodded politely at me, then turned his attention back to Bianca. I decided I was no longer a part of the conversation, and went to sit in the cushiony bench beside the door. It was only three. Griffin was probably still sleep. But I was desperate to get out of here. I shot him a text, asking if he was awake.

I looked at Evan and Bianca again. Evan was now very animated, telling some story to Bianca, who was either faking interest or was genuinely taken by him, I couldn't tell. I wouldn't be surprised if she was interested though. He was particularly good looking for a bouncer, and her situation with Beau didn't sound so great.

But still, this was boring. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to be with Griffin. Something about him was alluring in a way that almost seemed magical. Part of me feared being close to a vampire, afraid that, perhaps, as we leaned toward each other for a kiss, he would try to sink his teeth into my neck and suck the liquid life from my body, causing me to tense up in excruciating pain, and to grow limp with overpowering weakness. But another part of me, the part that smiled at crying babies, looked forward to that moment. Part of me was ready to dominated, to be aroused by my own distress at his cold, bloodless, soulless hands. The loss of control I felt as he ran through my home, then forced himself unto me, frightened me, yet excited me. Fear, I think, was my fetish. Or maybe it was pain. Or suffering. Or anything that was the deterioration and dominion of the human spirit. It was the evil in me, and the innate evil of his vampirism in him, that attracted me, that drove me to live. And while messing with a bouncer may be evil, being a wingman was not, and I was ready to go.

I started to get up and head toward the elevator, but I froze when I saw Bianca leading Evan toward the elevator by his tie. I was about 80% sure she was really into it now, and I was 100% sure that Evan was, judging by the bulge in his pants. Bianca caught my eye and nodded toward the door; she wanted me to go inside and wait for her. I was left with no choice, since she and Evan would soon be occupying the only way out. With a sigh, I pushed open the door to the Prosper Room's general area and entered the height of nightlife.


	3. Chapter Three: To Gain a Star

Mist danced around my feet as laser lights shot across the dim room. The smell of a Langraabster, the beach clothing shop, gave the room a rather sensual aura. Stars milled around and tried to chat with each other, but their noses were so high in the air that it was difficult for them to make eye contact. I thought I might gain a star level just from being in the same room as them all, breathing the same cool air. The light reflected off their faces, giving everyone a particularly impish expression, the same one I wore on the regular basis. Yet I could tell that only the one and two stars were out here; the fours and fives must be in the VIP section. Oh well, their loss, because the party was clearly out here.

Now I was completely swept away by the scene. "No wonder Bianca was so desperate to get in," I said under my breath. "This place is amazing." At that moment, Sugar Bijou walked by in a sassy orange number that could barely contain her curves. She didn't seem to be walking with a purpose, just flowing with the party. She was only a one star. I could probably get in with her easy. Still, for good measure, I tried to convey as much Attractiveness as possible. As she walked by, I caught her on the shoulder.

"Hi! You're Sugar Bijou!" I said, my voice coming out shriller than I expected.

"Uh… yeah," she replied dryly. She looked at me over her sunglasses, clearly confused as to how I'd even made it in. "Obviously."

"Ohmigosh, duh, of course you know that. I'm Zayn Xu, but you can just call me Zayn," I gushed. Oh my God. What was I doing?

Sugar sighed, making her impatience evident. "I'm sorry, but I didn't come here for a fangirl meet-and-greet, okay? So, umm, Zoey, unless you think you can impress me, get to steppin'." She was already looking past me, trying to find the next group to mingle with.

I tried to think of a topic to talk about. If I didn't start strong, she'd lose interest quick, and I'd be known as the biggest lame in here. I could already see some of the others peeking over at us, trying to figure out if I was accepted or not. I ran my hand through my hair to try to appear more relaxed.

"So, Shug, I was just wondering if you knew about mixing? I wanted to take a mixing class, but—"

"My sister mixes. I hate my sister," she said flatly. What a great start.

Time to try another angle. "So, umm, I think you're really, you know, magnetic. I mean, you've definitely got some charisma. I'm studying charisma too, you know, just learning to be charming!" I smiled, hoping this would go over better.

Sugar gave me a blank stare for a while, and I was just sure she was getting ready to walk away and let everyone know what a poser I was. But, to my relief, she began to smile too. "Oh really? I took a few classes at city hall for starters, but the rest is all natural."

I didn't know where else to take the conversation, so I thought I'd try charisma again. "Yeah, well, I can definitely tell. I'm just hoping I can get to the point that you're at, you know? I love how you're able to talk to everyone. Everyone just loves you!" Jeez. A Little thick there.

This just made Sugar even happier. I thought I saw her head swell a little, too. "Aha! Well, it can be hard sometimes, you know how celebrities can be. I guess it just pays to be likeable, huh? That's how I got Tom!" She winked. I had a feeling that her relationship with Tom had less to do with her sparkling personality and more to do with her spreading legs, but I decided to keep that thought to myself.

"Speaking of Tom," I started. "How do you like his music career? Front row seats to concerts and everything, you've gotta love that!" I hoped she didn't think I was calling her a gold digger. I mean, she _is_ a gold digger, but I didn't want her to know that I thought that.

"Ohhh, girl," she laughed, touch my arm as if we were longtime friends.

"Fabulous. Absolutely fabulous. I mean, right now, he's just a rapper, but I'm sure he'll be a full-out rockstar in a couple of weeks. In fact, Tom has a concert tonight, think you wanna come with me?"

Did Sugar Bijou just invite me to a concert? Seriously? I mean, I knew I had Attractiveness, but I didn't know that meant instant friends! With celebrities, nonetheless! "Why, of course I would, Sugar! That'd be… that'd be awesome! Thanks sooo much!" I tried my best to suppress my excitement and behave as if celebrities invited me places all the time. I definitely failed.

"No problem! And just call me Shug; all my friends do. By the way, what's your name again?"

"Zayn," I said, grinning.

"Of course. Here, let me go introduce you to the rest of my friends. Come on." Shug took my hand and led me toward a group of celebrities, all holding drinks and looking completely disinterested in one another. I gulped. "Hey, guys, this is Zoey. Zoey, meet Elvira, Morrigan, Kai, and Big Hartley." Her voices dropped in enthusiasm considerably at this last name, but I was too star-struck to care.

"Umm, Shug, I believe the girl's name is Zayn," said Elvira. I'm not sure how she knew this, but it probably has to do with her glowing eyes and the fangs she keeps licking.

"Hi Zayn, nice to meet you," said Morrigan, smiling warmly. I held my hand out for a hangshake, but she pulled me in for a hug instead. Her eyes also had the glow of the undead, but she seemed a bit warmer than I remember Griffin was, so maybe she was a convert. All the same, I couldn't help but notice the way her fangs rubbed my cheek when she gave me two European kisses on both sides. I tried not to shudder.

Big and Kai just nodded courteously, but neither of them seemed too interested in knowing me. I'm guessing that if the two girls weren't vampires and didn't want to eat me, they wouldn't have cared either.

Once the greetings were over, it got a bit awkward. Nobody was saying anything, but I think Morrigan and Elvira were telepathically debating the best way to bite me without the paparazzi seeing. Feeling hunted, I tried to find a way to get out of there.

"Hey, Shug, want me to go grab us some drinks? I'd hate for us to be the only two without a glass."

"Hmm? Oh, sure, hun. I like mines with salt around the rim." She twiddled her fingers in that high-class wave, and I turned from the constellation of stars and began making my way through the dance floor.

*I know this was a short and uneventful chapter, but I had to break it into two parts. The next chapter, I think, is more interesting.


	4. Chapter Four: Night with a Real Hamming

I walked toward the bar, doing my best to avoid the other celebrities standing around. Really, the place was packed. Don't these people have press conferences to go to or something? Eventually I made it to the bar, which was surprising empty, considering the amount of drunk people around. I pulled up a stool near the middle and waved my hand to signal the bartender.

"Hi, I'd like to order two drinks, please."

She rolled her eyes. "Everyone wants to order drinks. What kind."

"Surprise me." The bartender sighed and got to work. As I watched her, I noticed that she looked kind of familiar. "Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look just like Sugar Bijou?"

Again she huffed, then pointed at her nametag. "This clearly says Becca Bijou. I'm quite obviously her sister. Please stop talking to me." She shot me one last glare, then returned to mixing. How rude.

I tried to think of the most evil things I could to do her, but by the time she'd finished mixing, the only thing I could think of was not tipping. She slammed the drinks on the counter and slid them toward me so fast that they almost shot off the counter and flew to Shug themselves. I leaned over to catch the glasses, trying my hardest not to fall off the stool on my ass in front of Bridgeport's finest. Scowling, I picked up my own drink and raised it high over my head with the intention of pouring the entire glass down Becca's shirt, but before I could do anything the glass was plucked from my hand and the smell of France's finest cologne flooded my nostrils. I whipped my head around to see who was obstructing my very criminal version of justice and came face to face with Matthew Hamming, Bridgeport's most gorgeous, most famous bachelor. I also came face to face with the gag-inducing scent of his alcohol-heavy breath.

"Why, thhhaaannnkk youuu, darling, mmm hmm hmm," he slurred. "This," he said, tapping my nose with his free hand. The French accent he worked hard to conceal in his movies was in full force tonight. "Is exactly what I ordered. Annnd I don't just mean the drink."

As awesome as it was being hit on by Matthew Hamming, I just couldn't get over the injustice of thwarting my plan to douse the impudent bartender in the vile liquid of her own making. Half of me was all for going along with this drunk star, but the other half of me wanted to take his scarf and wrap it around his neck so tightly his head popped off. Part of me, though, was also delighted at his sorry state. The poor guy was so intoxicated that he'd wandered out the VIP section into the common area, even though he's the most legendary one in the entire club. I grabbed the glass that was meant for Sugar and started sipping, hoping a little liquor could help me decide what to do.

Hamming wrapped his arm around my waist, then let his hand fall a little lower, taking a firm, but not strong, grip of my right asscheek. I should have been completely repulsed by this invasion of privacy, and I did, in fact, get the urge to splash my drink right into his drippy eyes, but then I noticed the stares of envy I was getting from Elvira and another girl with red hair—was that Caroline Custard?

"Would you like to spend the night with Bridgeport's most eligible bachelor?" he cooed, while also tightening his grip on my cheek. "We can head back to my place and see if the hot tub still works." He hiccupped.

I felt a presence enter my mind. I think Elvira was trying to check my relationships, to get some dirt on me. I did my best to fortify my mind, tried to think only of tonight and not last night, downed the rest of my drink in and effort to protect myself. Elvira finally gave up and left my mind. Once I was sure she'd exited, I let my thoughts wander back to Griffin. Even though we were going out, I was sure it'd be over before it started if I slept with another guy, especially Matthew Hamming, just a day after our first kiss. Plus, I wasn't a big whore like Bianca. I couldn't do it.

"Maybe we could just go back to VIP and spend a little time—"

"Babe," he breathed out. Again, my nose was assaulted by the smell of spirits. "We're not getting any younger. Let's get out of here, go back to my place… What is it you want? Clothes? Furniture? Cars?" Another hiccup. "I can buy you these things. But first, a night of desire?" I could feel his grip on my asscheek getting entirely too tight; his fingers were practically in the crevice. Now I was getting pissed.

"Look, I said no. You can't just pick me up. You're drunk as hell! And I didn't even like your last movie." Nobody heard what I said, but everyone saw when I pushed him into the bar, evoking the gasps of all the one and two stars in the room.

He stood up in a drunken rage. "Oh, so now you're too good me, Matthew Hamming? Really? You're too pure? Well, I—" Hiccup. "Beg to differ, seeing as you're hanging with Slutty Bijou and last week's nut!" I assume this was a reference to Elvira, judging by the hisses that escaped her. "Whatever, you're too much of a nobody for me anyway. I'm driving home!"

I froze. _Driving_ home? I don't want my first encounter with fame as the bitch who sent Matthew Hamming into a drunken car wreck! "Babe, wait!" I yelled across the room as I ran, in heels, to catch the raging movie star. Lucky for me, he was so drunk that he'd started heading back toward the VIP section rather than the elevator. And, after he ran into a few other celebrities, I finally caught up to him and grabbed his hand. "Babe, wait, come here," I said, trying to pull him unto a couch near the VIP door.

"Unhand me, you filthy normie!" he said angrily. He tried to rip his hand away from mines, but I had the iron grip of a demon.

"Babe, please," I whispered close to his ear. "I really neeed to talk to you." I let my voice drag just like the girls on pornos. I was trying to play to his flirt, a trait that we both shared. He grumbled, but he did allow me to pull him into the seat. Once he was down, I planted myself in his lap, not necessarily to be seductive, but just to make sure he didn't go running off again. He was really too drunk to move me if he wanted to. "I'm sooo sorry, Matt," I said, looking down. "I thought you liked to little roughness, a little resistance? I was only trying to tease you," as I said this, I looked up into his eyes with the naughtiest look I could muster, while slowly tracing circles into his chest. Then I leaned my head on his shoulder so I could whisper into his ear. "I really hope you still like me," I said, letting my lips graze his neck. It's really a wonder that I didn't throw up at the smell of at least two hours of constant drinking, but by this point, there was too much adrenaline running through me.

I guess that won him over again. He growled in my ear. "Well, then let's go… I have the keys," he said, pulling them from his pocket. I snatched them from his hand, but before he could say anything, I interrupted.

"Let me drive, sweetie. I like to think I have a little… whip appeal." If you know anything about Frank Ocean's song "Whip Appeal," then you know why this caused his eyes to widen and why he relented so easily.

"Whatever you say, just let me go get my things from the VIP section." I got off him and stood up, convinced that he wouldn't try to bolt. I was prepared to wait outside, but he grabbed my hand and dragged me back there with him.

I wasn't surprised at the doubled amount of sexiness that the VIP section exuded, but I was surprised to find Bianca back there, hooting it up with Lola Belle and Tom Wordy. I freed myself from Hamming's grip and walked over to them. I was not longer star struck, seeing as I'd bagged the biggest prize in the city.

"Bianca! How did you get back here? And what happened to Evan?" I asked, completely ignoring Lola and Tom. They didn't seem to mind, though, as they were still engaged in conversation with each other.

"Oh, the bouncer? I left him in the elevator. I managed to get him undressed without even unzipping my dress, then I opened the elevator back up and walked inside. He wasn't gonna chase me naked. He's too proud, and he doesn't even care that much." She said this in the most pedestrian way.

"Wait. So you didn't sleep with him? I really thought you would," I immediately wished I hadn't said that. But thankfully, she just laughed.

"Yeah, that's what I was going for. I needed him to believe it. But clearly, it's me that should be worried! Matthew Hamming? Seriously?" She pointed at him, who was furiously digging through the coatrack.

"Had anyone seen my scarf? I can't find my scarf," he yelled. It was still wrapped around his neck.

I rolled my eyes and leaned closer to Bianca so no one else could hear me. "I'm not gonna sleep with him; at least, I don't plan on it. He's super drunk and when I rejected him, he threated to go drive home. I don't wanna have his death pinned on me, so I'm gonna drop him off at his place. Besides, I still want to go on a date with Griffin, maybe to a movie. It's gonna be time to call him in about an hour."

Bianca whistled. "Well, alright, girl. Gone 'head." She smirked as Hamming finally made his way back to us, holding a scarf that didn't belong to him. He waved at Lola and Tom, nodded at her, then took my hand again. He swept me quickly through the VIP doors, through the common room crowd, but not quickly enough that I didn't feel the hard stares from Elvira and Caroline. I turned around and waved at them as we left.

When we got through the doors of the lounge, Evan was standing outside, looking irritated and disheveled. I tried to pass without him noticing, but I before we could get into the elevator, I was stopped by his heavy hand on my shoulder.

"That friend of yours is a bitch. I know what you two did, and don't think for a second you'll be getting out of here without—"

Hamming slapped his hand from me. "Ernie, we don't have time for you to pretend that you're actually out here doing something. And who do you think you are, touching my little, umm, my little—"

"Zayn," I answered.

"Touching my little Zayn like that! I should have you fired. I should have you indicted. You know that I still could tell the police about—"

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry Mr. Hamming! I don't know what I was thinking. Must have been a bit confused! Do you need me to grab you guys a drink to go, or go valet your car, or—" But Hamming was already pulling me into the elevator. I made a mental note to shoot Bianca a text about her would-be lover.

Of course, on the way down, Hamming tried to pull a fast one on me, which led me to kick his ass out the elevator when we reached the floor. He took it as some sort of masochistic gesture, though, and simply wolf whistled. Finally, we reached his car, and I drove the wasted stud to his Celebrity Hills home.


	5. Chapter Five: Bye, Ham

By the time I pulled into Matthew Hamming's mansion, it was already dark. I was hoping the car ride would soothe him enough that he'd pass out, but he only became carsick and threw up as soon as he stepped out unto his driveway. And then, get this, he immediately tried to coerce me into woo-hooing in the shower with him. I stomped his foot and told him to go brush his teeth, shower, and freshen up; that I needed to use his other bathroom to gussy myself up. This satisfied him, and he stumbled inside with me following behind him. Once he veered off to one bathroom, I called for the butler. She immediately woke up and , still in her sleepwear, came to meet me. Surprisingly, she was not too annoyed.

"Camilla Fortescue at your service," she moaned, rubbing her eyes. She jumped when she heard Hamming's off-tune crooning in the shower. "I see you've brought Matthew home. The hot tub's in the back, there's a shower in each bathroom, each bedroom has a double bed, there's a nearby park with a treehouse, the nearest bar has a photobooth, and the last girl left a time machine that you guys can try. Matthew asks me to tell all his visitors that there's a shaving kit in the downstairs bathroom, and he strongly suggests that—"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" I cut in. "I just brought him home! I mean, do you see how drunk he is? I was afraid he'd kill himself trying to drive and –"

Camilla put a hand on my shoulder and shook her head knowingly. "There's no shame in hooking up with the biggest star in town, sweetheart. Just don't get pregnant or have any diseases and there won't be a problem. And don't worry, Matthew's a pro at pulling out if you're not on the pill, but he refused to wear a condom and 'stymie his manhood girth.'"

I shook my head. This was apparently a normal routine for him, and she wasn't going to believe otherwise. I pulled out the keys and placed them in her hand. "Can you keep these? I kind of don't want him to kill himself and I'm the last person he was seen with."

Camilla nodded and blinked her sleepy eyes. "I can whip up a nice Romantic Drink if you want."

"That would be marrrrvelous, Camilla. Merci," boomed Hamming from behind me. I turned around and was greeted by his bare body in all its hairy glory. It was clear that Matthew had doused himself with a little extra cologne, as well a little oil on his impeccable abs. I believe he'd taken a pill, too.

"Alright. I'll be right back," said Camilla dryly, as if seeing the nude body of an Adonis was an everyday thing for her. In fact, it probably was.

"Wow, Matthew! I didn't know you'd be so, umm, prepared!" Try as I might, I couldn't help but talk straight to his erection. What was with these Bridgeport guys and being stark-naked?

He grinned mischievously, holding his arms out to showcase his package. "You like? Maybe you could join the party." He waggled his eyebrow.

"Umm, nooo, maybe, umm," I stuttered. It's really hard to focus when you're being bombarded by million-dollar nudity. "Maybe you could go relax in the bed? I'll be right there in a moment, just gonna, umm, prepare myself to join the party. You know, shaving kit and all." I smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, go ahead, it's no shame. I too, decided to give a little trim. Can you tell?"

I almost looked back down, but then I caught myself. "Yes, yes, very nice, now _go_ get in the bed, okay? I'll be right up. Don't come down looking for me. I'll come to you." He nodded, proud to have impressed me, then sashayed away. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and took a seat on the cushy couch. My plan was that he'd get in bed and eventually doze off, forgetting what even happened. Either way, once I left, it was Camilla's problem. Maybe she could get some action, if she hadn't already. But that was now beside the point. I had a new challenge: to get out before the pap found me. Camilla, I knew, would be an expert at sneaking his various one-night stands out. I went to find her by the bar.

"Well, usually, the girls want to be seen," said Camilla, still mixing the drink. I told her that she didn't have to, that I was leaving, but she'd insisted on making one for herself just because. "They like having the paparazzi find them with the biggest male star in town. They want the star points."

I shook my head. "Well, I don't. I just want to get out of here and meet my real flame for a date." As I said that, I realized that the movie was probably out of the question now. I also remember Shug's offer from earlier. Maybe Griffin would be interested in that. "Can't you help me sneak out?"

Camilla nodded. "There's always the oddball that's ashamed; no offence to you. I completely understand. Just tell them that it was me that actually drove him home, that you were just the stand-in butler that was taking care of the home. It's a weak excuse, and there's probably pictures that will beg to differ, but there's enough people in high places willing to vouch for him, not to mention the complete and utter frenzy that Matthew will go into when he's sober enough to be ashamed. They won't push the story. Go ahead and leave." I thanked Camilla, gave her a hug, then took her advice and quietly evacuated the premises. Surprising, there wasn't a single reporter or photographer out there. They probably expected me to leave tomorrow morning, rather than make my mad dash within an hour of arriving. I didn't dwell on this too long, though, because I was eager to get home and wash off the filth I'd acquired in the last few hours. Once I'd made it home and done all that, it was time to call Griffin. I dialed his number and waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" said a rather impatient man. "Zayn?"

I couldn't help but smile at the sound of his voice. "Hey Griffs, I was wondering… Did you want to go out, umm, I mean, on a date?" He grunted. I'm assuming that was an inquiry to where we'd be going. "I met Sugar Bijou today, and she said we could go to the Tom Wordy concert with her. It'll be fuuunnnnn." I let my voice hang at the end, trying to sound relaxed, instead of insanely nervous, which was how I felt.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds. Finally, with a sigh, he spoke. "Alright. I shall attend."

His apparent indifference toward my invitation bothered me. "You don't sound too happy. Do you not want to go?"

At this, his voice pepped up. He must have sensed my disappointment. "No, of course I want to go! Don't fret. I'll meet you at the theater in a few minutes, okay?"

Now I smiled. Maybe it was all in my head. "Okay! Can't wait." He gave a deep, rolling laugh, said he'd see me soon, then hung up. I squealed.


End file.
